Debris
by Trabantlight
Summary: A One-shot written in my Creative Writing Class: Theme: In a locked space Miranda and Andrea survive an explosion in a parking space.


Dialog

„Miranda!"

As the rubble settled, Andrea stumbled across the last still intact part of the parking space. Just minutes ago an explosion on what she supposed was one of the upper levels brought the walls around them crumbling down. The Mercedes with Roy inside had been buried under heavy chunks of concrete and Andrea had scrambled to the pedestrian exit, hoping to save herself from being crushed to death.

"Miranda!"

She coughed, the dust around her irritating her throat. The young woman felt blood running down the back of her head. Some of the fallen debris must have found its mark after all. She thought about lying down, giving in to the strange feeling that started at her fingertips, but the image of Miranda disappearing in a cloud of dust forced her to continue her search.

"Miranda?!"

Andrea desperately hoped for a sign of life from her formidable boss. It was the only thing still holding her together, keeping her from falling over that cliff into heartbreaking despair.

"Miranda!"

"Andrea?"

Miranda's voice was small and broken, coming from the left, just behind the only still standing pillar. Andrea dragged her bloodied body over to where she believed Miranda to be situated. When she passed the half remaining carcass of a Ford Transit, a hand shot out from right beside it and grabbed her ankle. Her reactions being delayed due to shock and her injuries, the young woman fell down heavily, hitting her head a second time.

"Ow. What the…?"

"Andrea…"

Miranda leaned heavily against the side of the car, her eyes taking in the sorry form of her assistant. She helped her situate herself next to her.

"Are you okay?" Andrea asked.

"Really Andrea… The whole building crashed around us, and the first thing you ask is if I'm okay?" Miranda's sharp tongue tore into the young woman's heart.

"…I… I'm sorry."

Silence reigned between them for a short moment.

"No, it is me who is sorry. I shouldn't take my terror out on you. Have you any idea what happened?"

"The last thing I remember before everything crashed was an explosion somewhere above us. And I… I…" Tears sprang into Andrea's deep brown eyes. "I saw… R…Roy. H…He didn't make it."

Miranda sighed and leaned her head back. Roy had been something akin to a friend and a loyal presence on her side for many years. She silently said her goodbyes and tried to order her thoughts.

"Do you have your phone, Andrea?"

The young woman shook her head. "I lost it when the debris started falling. I'm sorry."

"Stop it Andrea. It is not your fault." Miranda felt around her. "I can't seem to locate my purse either. Are you hurt?"

"I think I might have a laceration on the back of my head, but for the rest I feel fine. You?"

"I can't really move my legs. Some of the fallen concrete hit my back."

Silence again fell between them for a while, until Andrea couldn't stand it anymore:

"What are you thinking about?"

Miranda raised her eyebrow at the intrusive question, but answered nevertheless: "My girls. I promised them to come to their recital today. However this small..." She pursed her lips. "…inconvenience…" Andrea smiled. "…might prevent that. And I do not want to disappoint them again."

"They will love you either way, Miranda. And I think they might worry more about you getting out of here alive, then their recital tonight."

"Still…"

"What would they have played?"

"Debussy. When they broke their vow of silence the last weeks, it was the only thing they talked about."

"They still shun you because of the divorce?"

"Cassidy and Caroline made it clear they would not accept another father figure in their life. It has been, and I quote, - quite enough - ."

"They will get over it." Andrea slipped down a crack and her eyes had trouble to stay open. "They are children… You know, it is nice that you started confiding in me since Paris. I love to hear about you and your family."

"I… Andrea…. I do not think it is really the ideal situation to dwell into our personal connection." Miranda sighed. "However I do confess, it has been enjoyable to have someone really listen for once." She felt the young woman lean closer against her. "You have the uncanny ability to understand…" Andrea's head rolled onto her shoulder. "Andrea?"

"M'randa…"

"Andrea!" Alarmed Miranda sat up straighter and turned to look into the young woman's face. Andrea had become pale as a ghost and small trembles shook her frail figure. "Andrea, what is happening?"

"My 'ead… I think blood loss is…." Carefully the older woman let her fingers stroke over the long brown tresses, feeling for the wound. When she withdrew them, her hand was covered in blood.

"God Andrea…. Why didn't you…? Lay down you silly girl. Here." She took off her blazer and pressed it firmly on the bleeding injury.

"Don't you dare die on me now." She threatened her assistant, who could only nod in response. From afar the editor thought she could hear shouts of a rescue team.

"Andrea, please… don't leave me now." A low sob broke free from the older woman's lips.

"I will try…" came the weak response from below.

Miranda was sure now. She heard shouts calling out for survivors and a flickering light in the staircase near them.

"Here! Help! Please!" She cried out, watching Andreas eyes slipping closed.

"Andrea."

Miranda shook her shoulder lightly.

"Andrea? Help is coming!"

No response came forward.

"Andrea!"

But all that answered was silence.


End file.
